


Gambling is a Vice

by shinesurge



Series: Casino AU [2]
Category: Kidd Commander (Webcomic)
Genre: Casino AU, F/M, dusk is in this one!, which i guess is a tag now lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-23 18:46:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18707833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinesurge/pseuds/shinesurge
Summary: Ulrich's face still hurts.





	Gambling is a Vice

**Author's Note:**

> Last year Amaaré wrote the first fic in this series and I thought about it a lot until this happened whup. he didn't have any input here this mess is entirely my fault

Ulrich sleeps for a long time after Ellie leaves, the heavy, inert sort of sleep that one is blessed with immediately after being mugged. When he finally stirs it's only because the painkillers (she'd insisted) wear off, and it's a consciousness so slight it's only "awake" by the most pedantic definition. A spot on his forehead feels like it's trying to cave in and his entire face hurts in a pinchy sort of way, dry skin and cuts sticking to rough bandages. His suite has no windows; the only indication he's slept clear through the morning is the glowing hands on his old clock glaring from across the room. It's nearly 2:30 in the afternoon. Part of him jolts with worry at the housekeeping tasks he's conceivably missed, but most of him finds it difficult to care. What difference would it make at this point if he sleeps a few more hours. The rest of the day. What if he just. Stays in this shitty hide-a-bed until he dies. It isn't like his energy spent on the floor had accomplished anything, had it?

Ulrich covers his face and breathes slowly, his breath hitching when something sore in his ribcage protests at the stretch. He doesn't really believe that, he'll be out there like always soon enough. But his limbs are still too heavy and his brains too addled to accomplish anything beyond feeling sorry for himself right now, so he does that until he dozes again.

The next time he wakes it's to a loud knock at the door. He startles badly and bashes his head against the particleboard in the in the folding bed's compartment. Stars bloom in his vision.

" _Shit._ " he spits, hastily pressing a hand to his head like it can do anything useful to dull the pulsing hurt. Still, his heart flutters annoyingly in his chest; there's only one person who knows to find him here. Ellie has a key but he still has to get up and move the chain and the stopper propped up under the doorknob. When he opens the door she's there in her uniform and his heart surfaces through the apathy long enough to give a little turn. But something's wrong.

"What is the problem?" he asks, her expression demanding they skip the niceties. He wishes he had gotten to the door faster, it's probably something he could have prevented. Someone had started a fight, someone had made off with winnings they couldn't afford to hand out, oh what if-

"Dusk is here." The blood freezes in Ulrich's veins. "He wants to see you."

He swallows. 

"Where is he?" he stammers. He steps back so she can come inside and locks the door again, like keeping Ellie in his sight and out of everyone else's can help somehow. "Did he say what he wants with me?"

"He's in your office." Ellie responds, following him to the bathroom where he tries to improve his appearance even slightly. Not that it matters. Dusk knows where the bruises came from. Ellie touches his shoulder and he lets her turn him from the mirror so she can fix his hair. They're avoiding each other's eyes, Ulrich realizes with a wave of fresh new anxiety. He remembers her kissing him with the feeling of giving up trying to keep one's feet dry on a rainy day. He'd been trying not to think of it, perhaps in an attempt at preserving the memory that it _happened_ but forgetting the details of what had happened to bring it about. Ignore that he remembers the feel of her tears against his face as well as her mouth over his, or that the sting in his split lip is sharper in his mind than her hand curling around the back of his neck.

But she'd done it and he had let her and, while he doesn't generally care for such things and there are a thousand more urgent problems to worry about, he wishes she'd do it again now. Regardless of the circumstances he doesn't spend a lot of time in his body; he lives in his head and in the future always, worrying about whatever is coming to get its due. But he had been quite adamantly in the moment while Ellie kissed him, and it's something he thinks it might be nice to get used to. Although her fingers combing through his hair right now feels good enough he could almost cry, so, there is that at least. His eyes want to close but he feels like that would be too much like admitting...something, so he rests them on Ellie's round little nose.

"He didn't say," Ellie says after a pause that feels much longer than it actually was, like she'd briefly forgotten the question. She gently adjusts the thin strip of medical tape and gauze over Ulrich's temple, then looks him in the eyes with such venom Ulrich actually feels his feet make to move backwards.

"How much do you owe him?" she asks evenly.

"Not enough," Ulrich adjusts quickly, already doing his own calculations. Her conspiratorial tone is the one she uses when they're doing books, making plans, and it easily snaps Ulrich out of his useless softer thoughts. "not enough for him to be here."

"But enough to give you this," Ellie presses her thumb to the yellowing bruise over Ulrich's cheek and he hisses, flinching and batting her hand away.

"That's just how these things are done." he retorts.

"WHAT _things?_ " Ellie demands, her hands on her hips. "What have you been _doing_ with him?" 

Ulrich sighs and straightens his overshirt, then pushes past her to grab a tie before heading for the door. He begins knotting it around his neck while he stalks towards the stairs, Ellie following behind after pausing to lock up. Best not to keep Dusk waiting, or give Ellie longer to interrogate.

"I doubt he really didn't say _anything._ " Ulrich needles. It's not her fault but it's so frustrating having to get details from others, there's so much missed information. Nobody ever pays _attention._

Their steps echo coldly against the cracked concrete in the stairwell, ricocheting in the disorienting industrial way unique to concrete stairwells. Nobody bothers much with cleaning the backend of the building where the staff floats through and there's nondescript litter tucked into the corners. It's itchy in the backs of Ulrich's hands; he flexes his fingers restlessly.

"He just wants you, is all he said." Ellie clips, her voice bouncing off the walls and back to them. "Don't act like I'm an idiot because I'm not a paranoid mess all the time. _I'm_ not the one who got jumped in a fucking alleyway."

"Keep your voice down." Ulrich snaps. 

"Yeah you're right, all that shit on your face is keeping a real low profile. It's not like I've already been making excuses for you all morning or anything."

The sniping is comfortingly familiar.

The bar mechanism under his hands is chipped and discolored from use, but the side of the door that faces the patrons is carefully maintained a sharp blue and silver. Ulrich shoves and they're in the equally sharp front lobby. The chip counter, a middle aged secretary bird, flashes them a polite smile that they each convincingly return. Ulrich's office is through another door on the opposite side. It's the one he uses for meetings, set up to be conducive to hosting rather than actual clerical work. He usually feels good about it, good about having his very own office with its not-the-cheapest-option-available desk and its fake books, but knowing who's waiting for him inside makes him feel like he's been playing dress-up all this time. 

Ulrich swallows, compartmentalizing as thoroughly as he can. Dusk got his blood last night. Ulrich's current loan payment isn't due for over a month. It's exceedingly unlikely this businessman has come to execute Ulrich at his place of work at 2:45 PM on a Thursday. Still, Ulrich feels asphalt eating into his face, remembers with perfect clarity the sight of an Opal Ex cigarette butt near Dusk's shiny two-tone shoe while steel fists had beaten him senseless, and he hesitates too long before going inside.

Ellie bites her lip and it bolsters his resolve. His own pride aside it's mostly her money in this place, he'll be damned if he'll let them be bullied out of it. Or perhaps he'll just be put in the hospital. He'd end up in traction one way or another, he deduces tiredly, though if he has the choice he would prefer Ellie's hands to do it.

"I'll leave you to it then." Ellie murmurs, her fight altogether gone. Ulrich grabs her hand before she can go and keeps her beside him, hoping the movement isn't enough to draw the counter's attention.

"Both of us." he eyes her steadily over the rims of his glasses. "If you want to be upset about how I spend the money that's alright, but the way this works is we're either in it together from now on or you stop asking questions." She looks startled and he fights the urge to soften his face. "It is your choice. There's no correct answer. But I need you to give me one."

Nevermind that this just means he can keep her in his sight, if Dusk is getting bolder. She'll be involved eventually anyway, either on his terms or Dusk's. If Ulrich can at least be sure of where she is or what she knows they'll be better off for it. Oddly, he hopes she'll say yes; then she'll at least have some measure of power in these dealings. A player piece rather than a bargaining chip for either side. He can't bear the thought of her being reduced to collateral to get to him if things go south.

His face betrays none of this and keeps her trapped in an uncompromizing gaze. Her yellow eyes are huge, probably shocked at the contact, but she gets hold of herself and nods. Of course, of course. His chest tightens; he knows he's going to hate himself for this, but a little more self loathing is a small price to pay if it means Ellie is as safe as he can manage to keep her. Ulrich allows himself to squeeze her hand once before letting go and entering the office. 

Ulrich realizes he'd had the bizarre but insistent impression Dusk would be sitting in _his_ seat behind the desk. But no, there he is in the creaky wooden guest chair, still managing to look infuriatingly regal in a maroon suit. He cranes his head to smile at them and it makes Ulrich feel ill. Alarmingly, the android who beat the unholy shit out of him last night is slouched in one of the chairs against the wall, her weight sagging through the legs. Ellie visibly stiffens beside Ulrich and Dusk holds up his hands, still gripping his cell phone. He's playing a game Ulrich's seen ads for about raising cats on a farm. 

"Hi! Hey!" Dusk chirps. He wiggles his fingers and the stupid mass of charms hanging from his phone case wiggle too. "Easy! No reason to be nervous, we're here as friends." 

His grin is like a mouthful of pearls, like chewing porcelain, Ulrich can't stand it.

The android is eerily still, but her glowing eyes flick up to meet Ulrich's, then cast over Ellie once before returning to his. She's in motorcycle leather today and her hands are shoved deep in her jacket pockets. All of Ulrich's wounds seem to throb at once and he breaks out in the thin sweat that usually precedes an anxiety attack, but aside from a flutter in his chest that feels decidedly less good than the one Ellie brought about the panic blessedly doesn't come. Ulrich manages not to look away before Agatha goes back to sulking like she's been called to the principal's office. Ulrich smiles at Dusk.

"Of course. Friends." Ellie shuts the door and the two of them cross the room to crowd behind the desk, Ellie standing just behind Ulrich on his right. "What brings you today?" 

"Will the lady be staying?" Dusk asks obligingly. He's produced a travel cup (also maroon, pinstripes) of coffee from somewhere and sips from it. He looks directly at Ellie while he speaks over her and Ulrich has to tamp down a brief flare of disgust. To her credit, though he can't see her expression, Ellie doesn't make any outward retreat in front of Dusk's scrutiny.

"It's just that she's normally so busy," Dusk continues when no one else does. He taps a white-polished fingertip to his mug and it echoes through the metal. "too busy to fool with our discussions."

"You caught me at a good time," Ellie says. She smiles. "I'm all yours." Dusk grins again.

"Pro _digious_." 

He jerks his chair forward, scraping grooves into the carpet, leans his elbows over the desk and cups his chin like a schoolgirl telling a secret. His coffee is obnoxiously close to a stack of papers. The papers are only performative, but so is the disrespect for Ulrich's space.

"You know," Dusk starts, "I got to thinking last night on the way home from our meeting. What's the _deal_ here? Why is it you're _bleeding_ money?" his own joke makes him giggle. "In the event of total societal collapse, three things people will spend their last goddamn dollar on: it's booze, sex, and entertainment." he counts off on the thumb and first two fingers curling beside his face. "You got all of 'em, and you still can't make it work, Weiss."

Dusk pauses. 

"Why is that, Ulrich?" he asks softly. His face hasn't changed but all the mirth is gone, and it's like all the tension in the room hinges on the corners of his unsmile, caught up in those awful teeth and twisting tighter around the movement of his tongue. Ellie shifts. Ulrich very pointedly does not look at Agatha when her weight groans through the doomed office furniture beneath her.

Dusk slams his fist on the table and Ellie flinches. Ulrich would have too on a worse day. Dusk is grinning like a man possessed.

" _Location!"_ he announces. He raises his fist and snaps his fingers into a gun pointed at Ulrich. " _You're_ in the wrong _place!_ You're a bright boy, and you got," he raises his eyebrows and nods at Ellie. " _plenty_ of assets. You just need that right place right time break."

Dusk leans back out of Ulrich's space and Ulrich smothers a sigh of relief.

"Why don't y'all come work for me instead?" 

Ulrich stops mid-smother.

"I'm. Sorry?" 

"I got more going on in Kairos than I know what to do with already, there's a big ol casino called Camden I think you'd be great for. Fourteen stories, great big saint sculpture on top next to one of those spinny rides you can look out over the city from. All that good shit." He nods considerately at Ellie. "There's a place for her too if she wants it." 

Ulrich's instincts are screaming at him now; the shoe about to drop might as well be a safe over his head. Maybe a piano, that would be funnier.

"It's not my intention to sound ungrateful," Ulrich says slowly. "But that's _exceedingly_ generous given our history." 

that dissonant chord they play when it happens in old cartoons, _BWONG!_ no more ulrich weiss, went out with a Bwong,

"See, that's _exactly_ what I mean. _Smart."_ Dusk shrugs. "No catch. I'd just like to have you come work for me and take some plates outta my hands." Somehow, _somehow,_ in that deeply uncomfortable in the back of the neck way he has, Dusk notices Ulrich's complete failure to react and correctly intuits that Ulrich is reliving the moment when Dusk knealt down to address him while Agatha ground the side of his face under her boot. Dusk laughs softly, and when he speaks the tone is exactly the same as it was the night before.

"If you want the truth, we both know the ship you're on now is sinking. Tourmaline, Carrington don't give a good god damn about a casino, kiddos. All they've got in the way of entertainment out here is churches." Dusk shrugs. "The way it's going I'm gonna have put more capital into it than you _or_ your generous benefactor. And we have established you have a difficult time paying what you _already_ owe." He stands up, Agatha following a heartbeat later, and Ulrich shrinks back into the cracked leather of his chair just enough for it to be noticeable. Dusk takes a swig of his coffee. It's probably coffee.

"Way I see it I'll own your workplace one way or another eventually." He flashes one last horrible smile. "Think about it. You should put those brains to good use, friend. They're no good to anybody smeared across the pavement." He looks at Ellie and holds out a hand.

"Great to finally have a meet with you, miss." Ellie shakes his hand in a dazed sort of way. "Thanks for making time to sit with us. So to speak." 

Ellie nods unnaturally; Ulrich wishes he could reach for her again. He's busy trying not to squirm under Agatha's unblinking stare. 

Dusk waves cheerfully from the doorway before seeing himself out, and Agatha tugs the door shut a little too hard and rattles the decorative junk on the shelves. Ulrich and Ellie wait a beat, making sure they don't intend to come back for anything, then the tension is gone and they both deflate. Somewhere, Ulrich appreciates their comedic timing and feels stupid for the affection that Ellie dredges up even now. God, how useless. He goes to rub his hands over his face, is instantly reminded why that is a bad idea, and groans instead. Ellie sits on the desk. He can't look at her.

"Huh." Ellie says at the thrift shop painting on the wall. Her tone is unreadable. Ulrich still hasn't decided what he wants to say to those performative papers he's looking at but he's thinking hard about it. Ellie's hand materializes between his shoulderblades and he hates that he's not more useful to her. And is actively a detriment to her quality of life, has possibly dragged her into some insurmountable bullshit; he hates those things too. But his lack of energy to do anything but let her rub circles over his spine feels like the worst sin. It's still terribly nice, and he closes his eyes, sighs through his teeth. 


End file.
